


Kill Him With Kindness (And Soup)

by sourstraws



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: I just feel like Hunk would be the one to successfully reach out to Lotor, Isn't really romantic, Lovable man that he is, M/M, POV Hunk (Voltron), hunk needs more love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 11:52:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13810629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourstraws/pseuds/sourstraws
Summary: Lotor is just sitting in a castle cell acting like he owns the place. As if he is sitting on the castle throne. He still won't give them any answers after offering an alliance and it is driving the team crazy. Hunk decides that if threats and interrogations won't work... well maybe soup will.





	Kill Him With Kindness (And Soup)

Hunk stops about six separate times on the way to the holding cells of the castle, debating whether or not this was a smart idea in the middle of various dark hallways.

 

Well, he _knows_ it isn’t a smart idea. It probably won’t do any good either. Probably why he hadn’t told the rest of the team.

 

Too late now. He’s already standing at the door, holding two steaming bowls of stew in both hands, hot on his already sweaty palms. It would be a crime to let good food go to waste, right?

 

Well, that wasn’t even a question but it emboldens Hunk to square his shoulders and walks through the automatic doors.

 

The cells are all dimly lit, and Hunk has to squint until his eyes adjust. _His_ is the only cell with bright shimmering force field up so it’s hard to miss.

 

“So, you’re taking turns to interrogate me are you?” Lotor looks up from his perch on the floor, still somehow looking at ease and in control even sitting in a cold metal cell. He holds his head high and Hunk resists chickening out at the yellow eyes scrutinizing him. They’re cold and flinty like a knife.

 

It’s okay. The force field is there. He can’t hurt him through it. Hunk gulps, holding onto that little thread of comfort.

 

When Lotor willingly, _willingly,_ surrendered himself to Voltron, claiming he wanted an alliance, the whole team was skeptical. Actually, they were beyond skeptical. They, Hunk included, were convinced it was a trap.

 

Yet he still landed his ship, walked out to meet them and didn’t even struggle as Shiro immediately slapped the cuffs on his arms. He didn’t make a sound as he was lead into his cell. 48 hours later after Shiro, Keith, Allura, Coran and even Kolivan had grilled him for information he refused to give them anything useful, often just mocking them.

 

Keith came back seething from his talk and threw a chair across the room. The prince knew how to get under the skin.

 

It was clear he was up to something. But they weren’t getting anywhere like this.

 

“You’re big. I’ll give you that.” Lotor sneers. “But I have to say you’re perhaps the most unintimidating creature I’ve ever met. What makes you think you can get any information out of me?”

 

“I-I’m not here to get information from you,” Hunk replies, trying to steel his voice, keeping the tremble out. “You’ve been in here for two da- uh… quintants. I figured you could use some food.”

 

Lotor rests his chin on the back of his knuckles, regarding Hunk and the steaming bowls. Every movement from him appeared elegant and calculated.

 

Hunk just stands there, holding his breath, legs shaking like the first time he gave an oral report at the Garrison.

 

“And you won’t give it to me unless I tell you something is that it?” Lotor says after a moment.

 

Hunk blinks. “What? No! That isn’t it.”

 

“Then why don’t you give me the bowl?” Lotor’s eyes glitter dangerously, like a cat just a few ticks from pouncing on its prey.

 

“To be honest I’m terrified of getting any closer than I need to,” Hunk admits, shuffling nervously. Fine white brows arch upward at that.

 

Hunk gets on his knees and sets the bowls down on the floor and keys in a few things to the pad on the cell shield. He keeps a wary eye on Lotor who watches him with what looks like interest. He slides one bowl towards the force field and is relieved to see it bubble and push inward as the bowl pushes against it. Once it has cleared the cell he quickly presses a few more keys and the field snaps back into place, leaving the bowl.

 

“There. Stew.” Hunk says gesturing at the dish, immensely proud of himself, wiping some sweat that had gathered at his headband. “Thank you for not trying to kill me.”

 

Lotor stares unimpressed at the bowl.

 

“And the other bowl?”

 

“It’s mine.”

 

Hunk smiles to himself as Lotor’s eyes widen a fraction, satisfied to get a reaction rather than mocking or indifferent.

 

He takes a seat on the floor, folding his legs and picks up his soup.

 

“We have a saying back on Earth where I’m from: Kill your enemies with kindness. That is how my mom did it so that is what I intend to do.”

 

Lotor finally moves, reaching over to pick up the bowl and studying the contents.

 

“So, you poisoned it is that it?”

 

“What? No!” Hunk shouts, offended he would even suggest such a thing. “I wouldn’t ruin a perfectly good stew with poison!” He clears his throat and purposely eats a vegetable, just to prove it isn’t poison. He hums. Seasoned perfectly. “Besides, I have no reason to poison you.”

 

“Then how do you intend to kill me?” Lotor huffs, clearly annoyed with Hunk already. 

 

“Oh.” Hunk pauses. “It doesn’t mean you actually _kill_ your enemy.” Though the image of his tiny five-foot mother going out to battle her enemies (probably still armed with a pan of _Keke Fa'i_ ) was an amusing one. Then it just makes him feel sad so he stuffs a space root in his mouth.

 

“It means you treat your enemy with kindness. Then maybe they won’t be your enemy anymore. You treat them nicely and they do the same.”

 

“And this is a saying on Earth?”

 

“Yup.”

 

Lotor gives a haughty snort. “Your planet wouldn’t last two ticks against Galra forces.”

 

“Well not everyone on Earth believes in that saying... I guarantee they would give you a fight!” Lotor wasn’t wrong about lasting two ticks but he wasn’t about to tell a Galra prince that Earth was hopelessly outgunned and out-teched.

 

“I’m not much for war. I hate fighting and I hate conflict. I don’t see any honor or glory in it. But I’m out here piloting a giant robot cat because I’ve seen what the Galra have done and I know it is wrong.” He absently stirs his spoon in the bowl. “I don’t completely trust you. You’re sneaky, suspicious and everything your Empire has done has ruined the lives of many good people. People I care about. But if you’re really willing to help us defeat Zarkon and finally put an end to all this… Well, I can’t see that as a bad thing.”

 

Hunk looks up from his stew and is surprised to see Lotor had moved a little closer, a different kind of look in his yellow eyes Hunk can’t place as he looks at him. It isn’t mocking, amused or calculating. Hunk figured those three things were the prince’s entire range of emotion.

 

“That is a very naïve way of looking at things,” he says simply.

 

Hunk gives a weak laugh and shrugs. “Well, like I said. I’m not much for fighting. I’m lover not a fighter. That's Keith’s thing.”

 

“What is your name?”

 

Hunk blinks, taken off guard by the question. “Uh… Hunk.”

 

“The yellow paladin, correct?”

 

Hunk just nods, shoving a tender piece of meat in his mouth.

 

To his surprise Lotor looks down at the bowl, grabs the spoon and tastes the soup. He had almost expected him to throw it back at him.

 

“You know I think this is the first time in deca-phoebs that I’ve had something other than reconstituted food and vitamins,” Lotor says contemplatively, sounding far away, as if he wasn’t even in the same room as Hunk. Then he looks up and… Is Hunk imagining the slight curl of his mouth right now? Yeah… he has to be.

 

Hunk smiles to himself.

 

 “Is it good enough for you to tell me why you’re willingly sitting in a cell and making my friend throw furniture across the room?”

 

“In due time, Paladin,” Lotor smirks, eating a vegetable. “In due time.”

 

“See? Sneaky and suspicious,” Hunk says squinting at the prince. “The others won't trust you like this.”

 

“I’m not looking for trust,” Lotor says. “Expecting such a thing only means disappointment.” The bitterness in his voice sounds oddly… fresh.

 

“That makes working together difficult you know.”

 

“Must your kind always have trust in order to work towards something mutually beneficial?”

 

“It does make things easier.” An alliance would not get far if he didn’t give them a single reason to trust him. There was too much emotional baggage to carry.

 

Lotor seems to think about that, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he chews a chunk of meat.

 

“I think I understand your Earth phrase now,” he announces as if he had just figured out a puzzle. “It means you make your enemies feel comfortable enough to divulge their secrets. A clever tactic. Do not think I will be fooled by this.”

 

Hunk sighs. “Just being friendly.”   

 

“Very well. I will not be fooled by your _friendliness_ then.”

 

“That's fine,” Hunk says, grinning knowingly. “Do you want more soup?”

 

Lotor blinks yellows eyes at the comment and looks down. His spoon clinks against the bottom of the empty bowl.

 

Hunk laughs at the look on the prince’s face. He looks disappointed in himself, the way Lance does when he loses a sparring match against Keith.

 

“… Perhaps your species is on to something with that phrase. How irritating.”

 

Hunk laughs again. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

Lotor sighs and pushes the empty bowl towards the cell barrier.

 

It _almost_ feels like it might be trust.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little idea I had. I love Hunk... And I could ship this. Pardon any typos.


End file.
